Pink Oleander
by Katie Havok
Summary: "Mind the flowers," Newt had warned her when she ambled into the pasture that morning. Tina wishes fervently that she had listened.


**Please note:** This fic contains a very specific trope, accidental exposure to sex pollen. Sex pollen fics are _inherently tricky_ because of obvious consent issues. I've framed this in such a way that, while Tina is _physically_ affected, her mind is still very much her own. Newt's role plays off of her reaction and attempts to self-soothe.

That said, _if consent issues trigger you in any way, shape or form, this may not be the fic for you._ While I've made it clear that they go into this with eyes wide open, and while I've made both their consent explicit, I _cannot_ control your reactions. So please, if you have any doubts whatsoever, be proactive and navigate away from this story. I promise, you won't hurt my feelings if you do, and you may thank yourself for it later. :)

Obviously, it's **smut.** Originally published on Ao3 on June 24th, 2017.

* * *

"Mind the flowers," Newt had warned her when she ambled into the pasture that morning. Tina wishes fervently that she had listened.

Her eyes burn with reaction, same as her nose and throat. She stumbles blindly from the pasture and its seemingly innocuous pink field, croaking his name as she drunkenly navigates toward the center of the case.

Tina knows she's close to her destination when there's a clatter and hastily-muffled curse from her left, followed by the sound of footsteps and a slim hand finding her shoulder.

 _"Tina?"_ Newt asks, his tone low and urgent, and she's suddenly taken with the ridiculous urge to _laugh_ as everything inside her catches fire.

"Yes," she manages, and then, simply: _"Help_." Her throat feels alarmingly narrowed as she husks out the words, and her mouth tastes like copper. She gives up on attempting to speak when he swears again, something low and greasy that definitely isn't English, before gently taking her arm. She follows him pliantly, distantly noting the unexpectedly _pleasant_ friction of her trousers against her inner thigh before recognizing the blurred outline of the small washroom behind his shed.

Newt maneuvers her onto a low stool, where gentle fingers tilt her head back. Tina shivers when the unexpected scent and texture of leather gloves fill her senses. He brushes her hair off her brow, and she gulps when goosebumps prickle her skin. His face comes into hazy focus as she looks up, a spattered bronze blur topped with copper, and even through the distracting stinging, she can recognize his worry.

"I know these symptoms," he murmurs, almost to himself. "You got into the pink flowers, am I right?"

Tina makes a sound of assent through her narrow throat while blinking up at him. Newt sighs, long and slow while leaning away from her. _"Bugger_ ," he growls, and while she recognizes that it isn't directed _at_ her, the perceived reprimand still stings.

She swallows down sudden, electric-tasting saliva when he bends over her, this time with his wand pointed at her face. "I'm going to have to wash the spores away," Newt says in a low, soothing voice. "Tina, I need you to keep your eyes open for me. This won't be very pleasant, but I'm afraid it must be done. Otherwise, your suffering will be prolonged."

A gentle stream of warm water flows from the tip of his wand as she forces open her eyes. It takes a long while for the stinging to stop, and her clothes are soaked by the time he instructs her to open her mouth. She swishes and spits until her tongue no longer tastes like metal, though it still buzzes with that strange electricity, and scrubs her face with the caustic soap he provides.

It isn't until Newt steps back to murmur thoughtfully to himself that she realizes another, more _immediate_ concern.

Intense heat coils and twists low in her belly, radiating down her thighs and spreading over her ribs. The oft-ignored fissure between her legs _buzzes_ and tingles in a way she's never experienced, and her nipples are pebble-hard and sensitized to the point of numbness. More distressing are the chills that chase over her skin, alternating ripples of heat and cold that cause her teeth to chatter until she clenches her jaw. She trembles deep in her muscles, her entire body awash with sensory input. The concern sitting heavy on Newt's features doesn't help the way she feels when she blinks her vision clear.

"What—" she begins in a croak and clears her throat before going on. "What did those flowers _do to me_ , Newt?" There's an uncharacteristic shrillness to her voice, despite the fact that it comes out little more than a breathless purr. Newt deftly avoids her eyes as he holsters his wand.

"I am truly sorry, Tina—this is my fault. That flower is a species related to the Oleander, though the pink color is meant to display that it isn't poisonous, unlike its cousins. At least, not in a manner that is, er, _catastrophically_ harmful." He winces while hunching his shoulders miserably. "You're going to have to find a way to work through the worst of the effects, though they should wear off quite naturally within 24 hours." Newt gulps and risks looking at her, his eyes wide and very green against the smattering of freckles surrounding them. "You will probably feel very, very unpleasant in the meantime."

Thinking past the heat rippling over her skin is difficult, but Tina manages to grasp onto the salient points. "What are the effects?" she grates out. Newt looks, if possible, even more devastated.

"Well, what you're experiencing now is..." he trails off nervously to look around before hitching a deep, shaky breath while straightening his shoulders. She can _see_ him finding his nerve, and some distant part of her appreciates the effort. Mostly, she's watching the knot in his throat, the way his lips curl as he forms his words—and her mouth goes dry with primal _want_.

"Arousal," Newt says succinctly. "Extreme sexual arousal. It's something in the spores of that plant—an aerosolized hormone, perhaps even a pheromone, I'm still not sure—but I experienced the effects while studying it and I _know_ how unpleasant it is." His voice cracks while trailing off. "You'll have to either wait it out or..."

Tina grimaces and rubs her hands over the sodden fabric of slacks before biting back a low moan. The sensation of her own touch, even through the thin material, is enough to cause her over-stimulated center to first _jolt_ , then quiver expectantly. Newt's watching her, swallowing thickly at the severity of her reaction before clearing his throat.

"How did you manage?" she asks him. He drops his eyes.

"I...did what had to be done," he mumbles, fingers twitching nervously. It takes Tina a moment to puzzle that statement out, and when she does, despair fills her.

"That's never _worked_ for me!" Tina wails, and his chin jerks up. His eyes widen when they meet hers, and she exhales shakily as her nipples tingle to a point. Newt moistens his lips—Tina biting back another heated moan, but only just—before speaking.

"Maybe it will now," he whispers. His hands slip into his trouser pockets without thought, and she can't help but stare at the twin lumps they make against his slender hips. His eyes fall to where hers are riveted, cheeks flushing. She wonders if perhaps she could inspire a third bulge there before, horrified with herself, attempting to turn away from the inappropriate thought.

 _You could help me,_ Tina thinks instead and tries desperately to master her expression. "What do I do?" she asks in a small voice and shivers when her skin prickles warningly. Newt moves toward her until his hot fingers curl gingerly around her shoulder. The contact _sears_ and grounds in equal measure, causing her to stifle a heated groan.

"Take a bath," he whispers and squeezes her reassuringly through her damp blouse. "Do...do _that_ , it will help. If nothing else, the bath will get any trace residue of the spores off your skin. You will feel infinitely better within a day, I promise."

He turns, speaking over his shoulder as he walks away from her. "I'll fetch you a few things. I'd suggest you rinse and wash first, then have a nice, long soak. I will give you privacy."

He disappears around the corner, leaving Tina to shudder alone as another hot/cold spasm jolts through her. She bites her lip in momentary indecision before fumbling for the hem of her blouse. She's shaking too badly to peel it off though, and frustration causes her to grasp her wand and murmur a rarely-used spell.

Her clothes peel themselves off to neatly float into a corner, where they dry and fold themselves. Tina breathes a ragged sigh of relief when the warm, fragrant air of the case caresses her skin, only to turn when a shocked gasp reaches her ears.

Newt's there, frozen in place as the towel wilts at his side. Hungry pupils edge the green out of his eyes as he watches her from across the short distance, and Tina knows— _knows_ —that she should cover herself and turn away, or at least offer an excuse.

Instead, as the want in her belly sharpens, she turns while straightening her shoulders and popping her hip suggestively. Newt exhales sharply, the teasing flash of his tongue when he licks his lips causes a moan to slip past her guard.

"I brought you a towel," he whispers, and his hand is trembling badly when he lifts it. "I'm—"

"Don't apologize again," Tina says quickly, and doesn't recognize the sound of her own voice. Neither does Newt, if the way he gulps is any indication. She moves close enough to take the towel from him, and she can see the struggle as he tries to keep his attention on her face.

"You can _look_ ," she purrs. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide. "I don't mind."

"I think it's better if I don't," Newt croaks. Tina flinches when the words hit home. He reaches out to her on instinct, and the brush of his fingers is enough to cause the trembling in her thighs to increase ten-fold. He gulps as she quivers before slowly pulling his hand away. "I don't want it to happen for the first time like...like _this_ , Tina," Newt whispers. "These feelings will pass, I _promise_ —and I want you to be able to look me in the eye when they do."

"I'll look you in the eye just fine," she promises shakily, and clenches her fists. "And I'm sorry too, but I can't _help_ it." It takes a Herculean effort not to level her hungry gaze with the placket of his trousers, to where the ancient part of him that she _knows_ could soothe her discomfort hides.

He shies away and sets the extra cake of soap beside the tub before putting his back to her. "You'll be fine, Tina. You know yourself better than anyone. You know what to do. I'll be in my shed, please come see me when you're feeling...relieved."

With that, Newt takes his leave, picking his careful way around the small outbuilding to hide from view.

Tina's stomach quivers with longing as she watches him go but base desire quickly dominates her thoughts. She's almost mindless with need when she scrubs and rinses before setting in for a long soak, fingers hurriedly getting down to business.

* * *

True to prior experience, Tina is unable to accomplish her ultimate goal, and her heartbeat throbs in every limb when she stumbles out of the bath.

Not bothering with a towel, she looks past the dark thatch of hair at her core to see her swollen outer lips, rubbed an angry red by her unrewarded efforts. She moans brokenly with every step, the delicious friction not quite enough to douse the blaze, and stumbles into his shed without the courtesy of knocking.

Newt sits hunched tensely over his desk, an explosion of parchment surrounding him as he knots his fingers in his hair. He looks up when she enters, eyes falling to her bare chest before dropping lower. They widen as they take in her obviously unfulfilled state before turning dark and _heavy_. Tina moans in relief at that look, preternaturally attuned to the subconscious shifts in his posture, and shivers in relief when he determinedly crosses the shed to her.

"Tina," he gasps while pulling her close. She frantically angles her jaw to allow him unimpeded access to her neck when he kisses and nibbles the overly-sensitive skin he finds there. The delirious scratch of his stubble causes her nipples and cunt to buzz happily when he spools his tongue out to taste her.

Newt laves her with delicate abandon, working his way over her chest to suck one fervent nipple into his mouth. He circles it with his tongue before _biting_ , and Tina groans her satisfaction while determinedly walking them backward.

He hoists her onto his workbench when she bumps it before dragging his mouth to the other side. He sucks and nibbles her into a gasping, pliant state before kissing a path down her heaving chest to swirl his tongue into her navel, stopping just short of the damp curls fringing her sex. Newt sinks into a crouch before her, and his arms wrap around her thighs to tug her to the edge of the bench.

"I did not want our first time to go like this," he whispers with a touch of mourning and meets her eyes. "But for what it's worth, you are very desirable, and I only have so much self-control. Tina, with your permission, I'd like to help you."

She moans deep in her throat, and feels the gust of hot air against her quim when he exhales sharply. The sensation slices through her, and thoughtless fingers curl into his hair to pull him _forward_.

"Yes," she hisses, and somehow nods to punctuate the statement. "Help me, _please_ help me, I _need_ you, I need—"

"Shhh." His calm tone is a low, soothing counterpoint to her desperation, and miraculously, she manages a few deep breaths until her heart rate slows. Newt catches her eye while dragging his fingers through her curls before carefully breaching her outer lips. She hisses when he sinks a finger in, head falling back to hit the wall when his thumb circles the overly-sensitive knot just above her entrance. He adds a second finger while working her clit, and the combined sensations cause her to choke on his name as her thighs clench.

Newt strokes her patiently but methodically, watching her closely as he adjusts the depth and angle of his fingers. Tina melts into the bench, dangling a leg over his shoulder as she tugs his wiry hair. He leans in to bite the stark tendon running along her inner thigh before peppering the skin there with kisses and nips. Tina hisses her approval when his hot tongue drags through the crease of her leg before dropping a kiss onto her mound.

Despite his focused efforts, it soon becomes apparent that what he's doing isn't _enough_. Tina hovers on the jagged edge, her fingernails curling frustratedly into the scarred workbench as he first slows, then stops. He withdraws his hand from her to examine the sheen of moisture coating his fingers before wrapping his lips around them. Tina watches, fascinated as Newt sucks them clean while meeting her eyes.

"May I taste you?" he asks in a throaty whisper. Tina nods frantically when renewed desire scorches through her veins.

Newt quirks a small, secret smile while leaning forward. Tina has to sit on her hands to stay the almost overwhelming urge to grab his head and _thrust_ against it. He must sense the pernicious thought, or perhaps the perverse desire shows on her face, because he wastes no time with preliminaries, sinking two fingers deep into her while his tongue finds and sweeps over her clit.

Tina closes her eyes as sheer _pleasure_ floods her. She gasps his name, and he hums while experimentally increasing the length of his strokes. Newt pleasures her with enthusiasm and surprising skill, alternating the brush of his tongue and the press of his fingers before holding still and allowing her to rock against him in search of what she needs. Tina quivers when his clever ministrations bring her to the edge, only to grow tense and desperate as she hovers there. Climax continues to elude her as he changes techniques, and she is gasping and shivering with frustration when he tenderly kisses her inner thigh before raising his head.

"You need more." It isn't a question. Tina chokes agreement when he stands to kiss her. She attacks his mouth with vigor as he sheds his waistcoat and shirt, and moans happily while dragging sharp fingernails over his skin before tugging frantically at his trousers.

"Please..." she gasps in a stuttering litany. Newt huffs against her lips when she slips a hand inside to _squeeze_ him before jerking open his fastenings. He shucks his trousers without fanfare, lips pressed to hers in fervent contact even as he shifts to kick them aside.

Newt moans raggedly when she wraps eager fingers around his silky length to stroke in delight, only to sigh while breaking away, pressing his cheek against hers to speak, voice low and breathy, in her ear.

"Are you _sure_?" Tina closes her eyes in an attempt to exert some level of control over her body.

"I've never been surer of anything," she whispers truthfully. He voices a low chuckle at that.

"Have you done this before?" Newt's voice is curious and without judgment, and for the first time in years, Tina experiences a sense of relief for her rare wild moments at school. She can't imagine how awkward this would be if she were still a virgin.

"Yes," she murmurs past the haze of lust, and she feels his lashes brush her skin when he blinks. "But not in a long time. Don't worry about me, Newt. Just..."

"All right," he whispers warmly, and his fingers bite into her thigh when he gently tugs her closer. She guides him with trembling hands, and his eyes find hers in heated connection when his hips _slowly_ push forward, Newt tilting their foreheads together with a groan.

Tina watches the play of emotions over his face when he carefully holds himself still before touching his lips to hers. He kisses her deeply and squeezes her hip when he starts to move, her legs wrapping around his waist in encouragement as her mouth falls open on a long, slow, _relieved_ moan.

"Is this okay?" Newt asks after a few delirious moments, prompting Tina to gasp confirmation against his skin before murmuring his name. She tightens her arms around his shoulders as he brings them together, his hips surging forward and retreating fluidly as they sigh their pleasure. Newt claims her mouth in a lingering kiss before dropping his eyes to where they are connected, his gaze dark and heavy with lust. Tina's eyes follow, and she trembles a moan at the heady sight of him slipping into her before thoughtlessly sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

 _"—Aaah!—"_

She makes to apologize, but he growls and snaps his hips into her _hard_ before she has the chance. She moans in approval of his sudden intensity until he drags his stubbly chin over her neck to initiate an exacting kiss, a thing of tongue and dominance. His hands slide up her sides to her breasts, where he pinches her nipples hard enough for her to choke before soothing them with his palm.

Tina shudders deeply when the first warning tremor of climax ripples through her, causing Newt to pant her name while increasing the torque of his hips. The building tension finally spills over and Tina comes with a cry, winding around him as her muscles clench. He catches her in his strong arms when she goes slack, and kisses behind her ear before sharing a gentle smile.

"That's one," Newt whispers while switching his pace from quick and sharp to _slow_ and teasing. Tina chokes as the sensuous drag of his length feeds the heat still swelling within her. He kisses her throat with a gentle hum of approval. "Let's see if we can manage another, shall we?"

"I'm agreeable," she breathes as her limbs tingle in anticipation. Newt makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan while squeezing her leg. She shifts to alleviate the numbness caused by the sharp edge of the bench biting into her thigh, frowning hard enough for Newt to pause to examine the way she's spread open. He drops his hands to finger the deep groove carved into her skin before tutting gently.

"That won't do," he declares, and Tina has to bite back a bereft whine when he gathers himself before withdrawing. He steadies her on her feet before turning her by the shoulder, urging her to bend over the bench. Newt angles her hips while she cranes her head to watch him, memorizing the abjectly worshipful look on his face when he traces her curves before meeting her eyes. _"Good_ ," he whispers, and her head hits the bench with an anticipatory moan.

He molds his hands to the inside curve of her hips, encouraging her to lift her behind and purring at her eager compliance, before filling her in one oil-smooth thrust. Tina slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry when she _stretches_ around him, arching her back to take him deep, deep, _deep_.

His fingertips bite into her skin as he fucks her—long, firm strokes that cause her nipples to scratch with achy goodness against the workbench. Newt drags his hand up and over her back and shoulders, causing her to shudder while tangling their fingers together. "Let me _hear_ you," he implores breathlessly. Tina groans loudly while digging the nails of her free hand into the bench, smiling when he shivers at the sound.

She comes for a second time with his lips pressed against the curve of her spine, quivering beneath him as he murmurs, "Gods, _yes_ Tina," into her skin. It is shorter and harder than the first one, somehow more _catastrophic_ , and her legs are trembling badly by the time he coasts to a halt.

"I want to see your face," Newt murmurs and gathers her close. Much of the urgency of her need has been seared away, but she's still breathless and aching with want so she allows him to herd her to his narrow army cot, where he lays her down with breath-taking reverence.

He covers her with himself when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he fills her once more. Newt's hips roll against hers sharply as he drinks in her expressions, his gaze slow and adoring. Tina weaves their fingers together, hands pressed palm-to-palm as his freckles flush and sweat stands out on his brow.

 _"Tina_ ," he says hoarsely, and gasps when his eyelids flutter. She eagerly presses her hips up to meet his, groaning as he urges them closer to the brink. Her fingernails mark his skin when a third orgasm overtakes her, this one a slow, pulsating series of peaks that see her gasping his name at the crest before gradually ebbing away.

Tina comes back to herself with a relieved moan, the final remnants of the spore-induced lust purged, at last, to find him tense and vibrating with restraint. Newt's watching her with an unspeakable desperation while thrusting shallowly. She moans and pushes the hair out of his eyes before nibbling his neck.

"Your turn, now," Tina breathes against his ear, granting permission for that final act. Newt growls her name while shifting his stance, his thrusts suddenly deep and _seeking_ as she gasps her delight.

Tina holds him close when he presses his face into her throat, his body wracked with goosebumps. Newt finds his release with a cry, and she steadies him when he shudders apart in her arms. He pants into her skin as his upper half slumps, mindlessly kissing her shoulder while Tina murmurs his name and runs soothing fingers through his hair. He basks in her affection until cooling sweat causes them to twist into symbiotic shivers.

Newt moves off her to flop onto the cot, Tina laying her head over his heart as he strokes her hair. "Are you...well?" He asks after a time. She smiles at the steady rasp of his breathing in her ear before lifting her head.

"I am, I think," she says slowly. "I don't feel as... _strange_ as I did, but I'm still a little, uh..." Tina nibbles her lip thoughtfully when he smirks and brushes her cheek with his knuckles. His eyes dance up at her, sated and lazy and full of delight.

"A little _worked up_?" He offers helpfully. Tina grins.

"Yes," she murmurs and lays her head back down. "It's my own fault. You _did_ warn me about the pink flowers, but I chose not to listen." She shrugs a little awkwardly. "They were pretty, so I wanted to know how they would smell. I had no idea that they would..."

Newt hums and tugs her closer to drop a kiss on her hair. She sighs and closes her eyes at the press of his lips, and there's a beat of silence before he whispers, "Allow me some time to recover. Then, if you're still feeling the effects, we can...address the rest of your _discomfort_."

Tina lifts her head with a disbelieving smirk. "Are you _offering your expertise_ , Mr. Scamander?" He presses his lips into a nervous line before smiling shyly.

"I am," he admits and welcomes her delighted kiss. "That is...if you aren't angry with me for this happening." His tone betrays his underlying anxiety, and she watches patiently when he gulps and looks away. "If there's fault to be had, I suppose it's mine. I'm aware the Graphorn's like to eat those flowers but I also know how devastating they can be to humans. It was foolish of me not to give you a clearer warning."

He squirms while Tina bites her cheek to restrain a smile. "I've endured their effects more than once, always on accident...and that's why I did my utmost to help you despite my, um, initial hesitancy." His eyes are soft and earnest when they find hers, and Tina reaches out to touch his cheek forgivingly. "I'd imagined our first time like this would be much more special, and I am sorry for taking that away from you."

"It _was_ special," she insists. Newt turns his head to kiss her knuckles, humming his pleasure when she reclines against him once more and closes her eyes. "It was special because it's _you_ , and it's me, so I suppose this is really no one's fault," she whispers. He murmurs his agreement as his arm tightens around her, his eyes drifting closed in relief.

"Well...except maybe the Graphorn's," Tina amends after a few beats of silence, and grins when his laughter rings loud and true, filling the shed with joy.


End file.
